


Pure Imagination

by FlyingShark



Series: Seventh Sanctum Challenges [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Fire, Original work - Freeform, Seventh Sanctum Challenge, gods/godesses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-15
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 05:25:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyingShark/pseuds/FlyingShark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ivy, Zealot, Aeon, and Maxim go to investigate the site of a massive fire, and find out why it happened. (not finished yet, will be soon)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not All Right In The Head

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Seventh Sanctum Challenge, where I just go onto Seventh Sanctum, and find a few prompts.
> 
> The song PURE IMAGINATION does not belong to me, I do not own it.

Aeon Hunter knelt next to the altar, coughing the last bit of soot out of his lungs. Maxim did the same. He had suffered the most from the ashes, and the other three were beginning to worry about him. But he insisted he was fine, and continued on strongly, as if to prove that he had just coughed for no reason but because he felt like it. If even Aeon, who was incredibly athletic, was feeling winded, that was a sign that the conditions were not very habitable.

“Why did we bring Hunter, anyway?” Ivy asked the remaining male. He was only a boy, and startled very easily. He jumped when she whispered, and had to take a breath before he could tell her.

“He can supposedly see invisible entities,” Zealot answered, trying to be quiet, “And he can. I have seen him do it.”

“In the past, or in the future?”

Zealot stayed quiet at that. Everyone knew his readings and visions weren’t exactly accurate, but it was all they had to go on. Otherwise, Ivy saw no reason not to kill Aeon then and there. He wasn’t all right in the head, and after witnessing one of his outbursts, Ivy kept an eye on him.

It was quite a disturbing outburst. It happened while the four were sailing to the island on _The Enlightened._ It was around twilight, and it was Aeon’s turn to take watch. They had hired a less-than stellar crew, and they wanted to make sure their possessions weren’t stolen. Zealot was having a nightmare-vision, and the knight was comforting him about it. She suggested they both get some air, so they went up on deck.

They found Aeon on deck as well, they fortune-telling boy still in tears. He was leaning against the ropes in the front of the boat, a look in his eyes that was a cross between murderous, and caring, with a tad of a distracted glance. He approached the two, trying to offer advice.

“What could you know about helping him?” Ivy accused, not wanting to interact with Aeon at the moment. He flipped his hair back, and cracked his muscular knuckles.

“A lot, actually,” he moved around her to get a hand on Zealot, and squeezed his shoulder, “I can help.”

“H-how?”

Aeon smiled with a twisted grin, “Hold your breath…make a wish…and count to three…”

Ivy was greatly disturbed by this, and pulled the boy away from the blacksmith, “I think you’d better go back down into the cabins, Hunter.” She warned. But he was cut off from hearing anyone else. He had gotten up on the ropes, and was balancing like a tightrope walker.

“Come with me, and you’ll be in a world of pure imagination…take a look and you’ll see into pure imagination…”

“Aeon, get down from there…” Zealot warned, holding his head as he got another vision, “You are in danger up there…” The blacksmith ignored him, and continued to balance against the winds.

“We’ll begin with a spin, traveling in a world of my creation…what will see will defy…explanation…” he sang. The knight paid no heed to his exceptional singing voice, and pulled Zealot back into the cabins. When they awoke the next morning, there was word that Aeon had fallen overboard the night before, but was rescued, and was recovering nicely. He had no recollection of the night before.


	2. Summoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maxim gets the four one step closer to getting their answers.

Ivy couldn’t blame the boy for being inaccurate, though. After all, he was still young, and understanding his abilities. She had been something like an older sister to him as they travelled the island of The Empire of Whales, which was now just the aftermath of a fire. Even Zealot couldn’t see how a fire would be able to burn down an entire island. Then again, that’s why they were at the altar in the first place, wasn’t it.

Maxim Madware began muttering Latin chants he had learned on the boat ride to The Empire of Whales. He seemed the most capable at the time, despite being the one who got seasick. Zealot was preoccupied, Ivy was helping Zealot, and no one trusted Aeon after that incident, so Maxim was stuck with the job, despite his fear of the non-human.

“ _Ego_ _gratanter invocate deos, quasi vocare te. Egestas mihi scientiae respondet quod praestare non posset, tellus. Tibi sacrificium et speramus redditur responsum accipe et_ ,” he pulled out a small sack full of mixed herbs and spices Zealot had pointed out, and sprinkled them in a circular shape with a line going through it, “ _Ignis invocabo dea,_ Dionine, _omni honore_.”

Maxim lit a match, and the species went up in flames, burning a reddish-pink color. Before Maxim could finish the chants, he was distracted by Zealot gasping, and collapsing to the ground. Anyone else nearby might have helped the boy, asked what was wrong, and tended to him. This group knew it was just another vision of his, and didn’t mind all that much. They just stopped what they were doing, and waited for a report from him.

“She will not come…” he breathed, “Not for a while…tomorrow at dawn at the earliest…three days at the latest…and she will be very angry…”

“Three days?!” Aeon was infuriated, “ _The Enlightened_ leaves tomorrow at dusk!”

“Then we had better hope that she comes at the earliest convenience,” Maxim said lowly, getting comfortable in a nearby tree nook, “Anything else, Z?”

“…It is very fuzzy…there was a bald man, with six arms…and pink eyes…”

“Is he a danger to us?” Maxim asked, taking off his scabbard of arrows. Ivy followed his lead, and took off her sheath. Zealot sat down, and held his head, looking pale.

“I do not know…he had no weapons…but his teeth are very sharp…”

“It does not matter,” Aeon interrupted, “We are going to see Dionine, and get out of here as quickly as we can. No need for going on side-tracks.” He started to gather wood for a fire, when he realized that the previous fire had burnt everything down. The group had to resort to using the fire from the burning spices, after Maxim recited a chant asking for forgiveness. They attempted to roast some left-over meat for dinner, but found the spices gave it a bitter, disgusting taste.

Despite the taste, they forced it down their throats with grimaces on their faces. It was down-right repulsive, and they had to plug their noses to prevent gagging, and vomiting it back up again. This didn’t work for Zealot, and he got sick a few times during the course of the entire night, rendering him now useless for means of fighting. He couldn’t fight well anyway, so no one was extremely upset.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chants were just me changing the words into Latin using Google translate. Nothing special.


	3. Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The groups waits for the fire goddess to arrive, and sleep doesn't come easy.

“Ivy?” Zealot muttered under his breath, having lost his voice, “Are you awake?” No response. He gently nudged her, in need of some company.

“Ivy? Please wake up…”

The knight stirred, and sat up, still half asleep, “Yes, Z?”

“I cannot sleep…might you be able to stay up with me? Or tell me a story?”

Ivy sighed, and nodded. The spices were still burning strong, and the scent of horribly-cooked meat was still in the air. The spices almost had a strong enough aroma to get rid of it, but not quite.

“A story? What kind of story? I have told you so many,” She yawned, sitting up. Zealot stared into the remains of the fire, “That and you see so many stories on your own.”

“I have not seen your story, or the story of how this wasteland came to be,” he poked the spices with a small stick; “I would greatly like to hear those stories.”

Ivy sighed, and went to go sit next to the boy. He still looked rather shaky and weak from rejecting dinner. She took pity on him, and told him the stories.

“The stories are one in the same, believe it or not. I used to live in the Empire of Whales, on this island. I grew up here, like any young girl would. Except, I wouldn’t play with dolls, or wear dresses. I was more like the boys of the city, than the girls,” Ivy laughed a bit nervously, “I even adored girls as the boys adored them. You would not understand-“

“I understand,” Zealot interrupted, “You fall in love with girls, not boys. What is there to not understand?”

Ivy knit her eyebrows, “How old are you, again? Did you not just have your twelfth birthday?” The boy nodded. Ivy couldn’t help but smile, and ruffle his hair.

“You are wise beyond your years, Zealot.”

“It comes with being able to see everything at once, if I wanted to,” he turned to Maxim, who was fast asleep, “He adores boys, but he will ever tell anyone.”

“So why did you tell me?”

“Because you are in the same position as he is. I figured that you two would become friends, having that same situation,” Zealot smiled, and shifted back, “But tell me the rest of the story.”

Ivy smiled back, “So, when I told the boys about this, there was a great amount of arguing, and shunning, and whatnot. It was not as bad as when the girls found out. I was out casted at your age. I had nothing else to do, but go to the knight academy. I trained there, and that is that.”

“What about the Empire of Whales? How did it burn?”

“…that is an extension of my story. There was a rebellion against the king, about the level of order. I was leading the rebellion when someone set fire to the castle. It burned absolutely everything, and anything it did not burn was covered in a layer of ash. Some trees grew back, but the fires melted all the buildings. I was able to escape on a boat with a few other knights, and we floated to the mainland to get help. No one ever did.”

Zealot’s expression had turned down, “That is horrible…”

“To make matters worse, I was the one that suggested the torches and fire,” Ivy looked up at the altar, “Which is why I am here now. Maybe Dionine will be able to tell us why the fire got out of control.”

Zealot nodded, and looked back at the spices. They were almost completely depleted. Would Dionine still come if there was no offering?

“Should we wake Maxim up, to do the offering again?” The boy asked. Ivy shook her head.

“You only need to offer once. Maxim is weak, anyway. He needs his sleep. You saw how much he was coughing. He was barely able to breathe when we got here. I hope we get off this island soon. He may suffer greatly from this trip, not to mention, the boat ride home. He will get seasick again, and-“

Aeon suddenly sat up out of bed, awoken from a nightmare. He was breathing heavy, and got more ash caught in his lungs. After coughing until his throat was raw, he looked over at the two that were awake. They eyed him suspiciously.

“Are you alright, Aeon?” Zealot asked with little energy behind it. He was beginning to drift off into slumber.

“Fine…just fine…” he looked around, and up at the sky, “This place must have been so beautiful when it was alive and green.”

Ivy spoke cautiously, “Indeed, it was…”

“If you want to view paradise…” Aeon smiled, and began singing, “Simply look around and view it…Anything you want, do it…want to change the world? There is nothing to it…”

Ivy’s breath grew heavy. She was tired of living in fear of that man, and what he might do when he was not in his right mind. With little conflict in her mind, the knight stood up, grabbed her sword, and knocked Aeon on the head with the handle, knocking him out, and leaving a plum-sized bruise on his forehead.

“Ivy!” Zealot exclaimed, “Why on Earth, would you-“

“He was frightening me.” She said clearly and plainly, then went back to sleep.


	4. Trying To Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zealot tries to go to sleep.

Zealot still couldn’t sleep. He was exhausted, but his headache was keeping him up, along with his uneasy stomach. Not to mention, the fact that the blacksmith had terrified him. Why was he singing like that? Was that actually the way he thought? Was he actually insane like that? Or was it all just an act? Zealot didn’t know which disturbed him more; if he was just acting like that to scare him, or doing it without control.

The boy just wanted to get off that island. It was making Maxim cough. Maxim had become something like a role model, and Zealot hated to see him suffer. Ivy was more like a big sister that he put up with, but still loved.

Lying down again, Zealot closed his eyes, and tried to focus on the ground, and not his turning stomach. The ground was a very solid and sturdy object. The ground wouldn’t jump out at you, and startle you. Yes, Zealot liked the ground. He was just about to fall asleep, when a vision began to show itself in his mind with a piercing headache introduction.

The boy gasped, and gathered dirt in his fists, trying to find something to hold onto. He was so close to sleep! Why did his brain to this to him?


	5. Visions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zealot has disturbing visions, as usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't decide if this chapter's finished or not. Probably.

It was the pink-eyed man again.

Aeon had walked up to him, and bowed. Ivy did the same. Maxim was not in sight at the time, nor was the youngest of their party. Zealot's visions didn't usually have sound, and if they did, it was very quiet, and hardly recognizable. Aeon was talking to the man, but there was no sound, and Zealot couldn't read lips, despite his efforts.

The scene changed, and the boy was able to see were Maxim was. Zealot was with him, wandering around quickly, and spastically, as if he were looking for something. Maxim was walking slower, dragging his bow behind him. There were two bright red streaks of blood coming from his abdomin, which he was clutching tightly with his free hand. He was as pale as a ghost, and there was a certain haze to his eyes that showed that he wasn't all there. The boy would run back to Maxim, check up on him, then go running out again.

The vision changed again.  _The Enlightened_ was sailing back to their home land. There were only three figures, besides the crew. It was unclear which one wasn't in sight.

* * *

Zealot shot up, sitting upright as a cold wind blew down his back.

_No boy my age should be experiencing this much pain and anguish,_ he thought, laying back down. Maybe he could actually get some sleep. This was almost immediately disproven when he began to analyze his visions. It was the thought of who would not be on the boat when they left that gave him insomnia.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts:
> 
> A paranoid fortune-teller.  
> A rebellious, social knight with no hope.  
> An athletic, unstable blacksmith that can see invisible entities.  
> A friendly bowman who fears the non-human.  
> The Empire of Whales.  
> An island destroyed by a social breakdown, leaving only weapons and monuments.


End file.
